The Seersucker Social returns to Washington DC on June 4. It's a fund-raising event from the whimsically named DC outfit Dandies & Quaintrelles. I watched video from last year's event online with radiant envy last year - have you ever seen anything more gorgeous? Summer, spectacular estates, prissy vintage outfits, delicious picnics and cocktails, and, of course, bikes. This year I won't be watching from afar...
PS Between this video and my newfound Heathers obsession, not to mention my daily ride past the McIlwraith club in Auchenflower, I reckon croquet is ripe for a comeback.
I'm way late on the Janelle Monae bandwagon but this song has been making grape picking bearable for the last few weeks. The video is even better. How good is it to see a hip hop video that's not all flesh and ostentatious bling? (I'm looking at you, Yeezy) And more importantly, where can I get some of these shoes?
I tip on alligators And little rattlesnake-uhs
The "classy brass" and the ukelele fade-out are just gorgeous. And how great is Big Boi in this? He was always overshadowed by Andre 3000 in Outkast, but by all accounts his 2010 solo record Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty is the business. I love the chorus to his song "Shutterbug" (now party people in the club it's time to cut some rug / and throw the deuces in the sky just for the shutterbug / I'm double fistin and you're empty you can grab a cup) and it has a great video - including some muppets! But I think I prefer the song mashed up with the Black Keys:
Perhaps most of my pleasure in this comes from the phrase "cut a rug"... So reminiscent of the rum-sozzled discos they used to hold at the agricultural college my friends attended just out of school. I didn't turn eighteen until almost a year after we left school, so I spent a lot of my first year in Brisbane bussing out to Gatton and Forest Hill for weekends - where my mates were studying things like "agribusiness" and "animal studies", and where the publicans never bothered to check IDs.
They had the best parties out there - pigs on spits, bands on the backs of trucks, and the aforementioned Wednesday night discos where there were always random themes. And there, dressed as rednecks or Hawaiians or whatever, we'd bust out all our best moves. "The shopping trolley", "the sprinkler", even "the worm" for those with gymnastic leanings and no fear of writhing in the rum spilled on the dancefloor.
Oh my god, that reminds me. Around this same time I was, as I remain, laughably naive about drugs. And I remember someone telling me about how everyone on ecstasy does the same dance - this kind of jerky robot, all elbows and angles, a stylised mime of filling boxes and stacking them.
Years later, shortly after moving to Sydney, I was having drinks with some new friends and desperate to appear urbane. A number of beers in, I was tuning in and out of the conversation when they started talking about pills. Thinking of the box stacking dance, when they mentioned "shelving" I enthusiastically brought up my own experience in this area, to the surprise of the group. It was months before I realised what the process of shelving actually involves (kids - and Mum - please don't click that link). Suffice to say I have never done it, and I hoped fervently that conversation was forgotten...
Wanna know something embarrassing? For the longest time, I thought the Chrysler Building was the Empire State Building. Sure, the actual ESB is more imposing, but the Chrysler is so much prettier. I still don't understand all the fuss over the ESB, so I'm going to pay it a visit in the interest of further research. But last night, driving back to Brooklyn we copped an amazing view of it lit up in rainbow colours, and I have to admit it was pretty spectacular.
The building's website usually has details decoding what the ever-changing colour scheme stands for, but all it says about the rainbow effect is "private lighting". According to speculation, the rainbow could be a tribute to anything from Transgender Day of Rememberance to the Grateful Dead reunion shows happening at Madison Square Garden...
As part of my Best Birthday Ever (TM) celebrations, I had a lovely time on the Tour & Taste ride which started at Rolling Orange bike store in Brooklyn's Cobble Hill. Best of all, I was lucky enough that Christine from Rolling Orange let me borrow one of her gorgeous Dutch-style bikes to ride for the day, the arrestingly magenta De Fietsfabriek OMA.
It was the first time I'd actually ridden one of these heavyweight bikes, designed to keep the rider sitting upright and also equipped to carry heavy loads on front and back racks. The front rack and basket are attached to the body frame rather than the handlebars and front wheel, so it took a little while to get used to not seeing the basket move when I steered around a corner. But in that mjestic saddle I suddenly understood how all those European riders stay so chic while cycling. The OMA was a dream to ride - posh and ponderous in the best way, prompting posture my mother would be proud of, so weighty and steady I felt really safe on the road. The Rolls Royce of bicycles. I spent much of the tour seriously considering committing a grand theft velo... Only when we'd ridden all the way back to Brooklyn could I bring myself to ask Christine how much she cost. At $1500 the OMA is an investment, but I daresay you would not regret it. Unless you had to carry her up and down stairs... Personally though, if I were in a position to make a purchase from Rolling Orange, I really love the pared-back classic style of the "Old Dutch" step-through from Batavus.
The Rolling Orange call to arms, emblazoned on the store's wall, is reminiscent of the Cycle Chic manifesto:
the slow revolution welcome to a different way. a different way to bike. a different way to move. a different way to live. ask yourself a simple question. if you love life, why rush it? fast has no time for charm. no time for chance. no time for wonder. there are no details in fast. slow is seeing, feeling,loving the life you move through. fast is a schedule. slow is freedom. fast fades. slow lasts. fast rushes life. slow enjoys it. it's simple, really. if you love life, you deserve a different way. a better way. a slower way.
It's a beautiful store, sun-lit and laid out so that the gorgeous bikes appear almost like artworks in a gallery. Bikes hang from the walls, are suspended from the ceiling; even the accessories are cheeky and chic, from baskets and colourful panniers to these Yakkay helmet hats:
The bikes may be beautiful, but their design is functional and intelligent as well. The Dutch influence, where bikes are a part of everyday life, is particularly clear in the storage options - racks, baskets and trays for carrying groceries or even children or pets. Rolling Orange is well worth a visit if you're in the neighbourhood (269 Baltic St, Brooklyn). Join the Facebook group to keep up with the many wonderful events they're involved in too - coming up on November 20 the Dutch Days bike tour will incorporate New York's early Dutch history into a laidback Saturday ride...
Oh, hello there! So I finally made it to New York this morning. Jet lag? I scoffed. As if. And so Pi and I wandered through East Village sipping incredibly strong coffees, checked out a digital media conference in the Upper East Side, and then I left her to do some exploring on my own. It was a super sweltery summery day, and the siren call of Central Park could not be ignored.
Fuelled by ruby-ripe street-corner strawberries, I wandered acres and acres - from the Met to Belvedere Castle, Sheep Meadow to the Bethesda Fountain. Naturally, I got hopelessly lost. Unfortunately, so did my lens cap when I tried to have a paddle in the lake.
Everyone else had similar ideas to soak up the sun. I saw people doing all kinds of things - from stripped-off sun-bathing to rock-climbing; croquet to tightrope walking. And there are SO many people on bikes, from the sublime (girls cycling in heels who look poised to be papped by the Sartorialist) to the ridiculous:
Despite the thrill of seeing Lupe Fiasco this afternoon, jet lag did indeed catch up with me. After walking the forty-odd blocks home from Grand Central, eating a slice of pizza as big as my head and assuming a horizontal position, staying conscious is suddenly a very tall order. Out the window lightning is popping like paparazzi flashbulbs over East Village tenements, and my feet have the biggest blisters you've ever seen. Life is good.
Sorry to post a song twice, but this is so worth it. Mark Ronson in a white suit... and then even somehow rocking white hair... many, many beautiful bikes... and a cracking tune to boot. Ronson's like the hott pied piper of bikes, thwarting evil bike-nappers with his wired-for-sound BMX... and could Spank Rock's guest spot here be the first rap about bikes?
Consider: I can understand it But I can't really stand em Girls love cars Cars cause harm the planet Don't you wanna take a joyride on my tandem? Don't I look so handsome? Bike's so nice Pipes like this They're priceless Working on my calves Triceps and biceps Bypass the gas Stop the traffic lights I get around town Without a driver's license
I've long felt a love song for bikes is due, along the lines of what Lupe Fiasco did for skateboards with "Kick Push". Is this it? What's your favourite bike song?
Big Red and Baby Blue, how I miss you! Now all I wanna do is coast past some cutie, ring my bell and coo
Yep, they're headphones in the shape of cupcakes. Whatta present, whatta gal.
Alanis would surely appreciate the fact that my parting gift from work was a beautiful new wallet - the next challenge will be filling it. So, um, I'm technically unemployed now. One month til I board the plane for NY. Wanna hang out?
Gossip Girl's return is imminent - and Parisian! Ooh la la! Can't believe I have not blogged about this show earlier. It is my trashpop weakness, and I would be lying if I said no small part of my going to seek my fortune in New York was influenced by the possibility of appearing in the show's background as an extra...
While I fear his diminuitive stature would nary graze my bellybutton, I am nevertheless rather partial to dreamboat Joseph Gordon Levitt. Even more so having discovered his collaborative video-making site Hit RECord, and specifically this verbose piece of whimsy. Splendiferous!
The songwriting genius part I knew about, but the fact that Bob Dylan was once a hottie had never occurred to me. Until today. Specifically, until looking at this photograph at Blender Gallery in Paddington, which is currently hosting an exhibition of images of Dylan. This picture was shot at Woodstock NY in 1968 by Elliott Landy, and the internet now tells me it's from the cover of Dylan's 1969 album Nashville Skyline. (Should know this, considering the record contains two of my favourite Dylan songs: "Girl From The Northwest Country" and "Lay Lady Lay")
I Ran The Wrong Way is one of the Surry Hills shops we visited as part of Small Stories Big Picture on the weekend. I figured it deserved its own post since it's such a treasure trove of random goodness - or, as it describes itself, "a trader of good finds".
The owner, Mel, describes herself as a "professional fossicker". She loves nothing more than hunting high and low for special, storied items for the shop. And ain't that the dream - making a living from doing the thing you love most?! From handmade pencils and stationary, to vintage suitcases, old cameras, organic skincare, niche books and wooden toys - you could find anything here, so long as its origins are ethical, sustainable and locally created or free trade.
Mel was also one of the organisers of Small Stories Big Picture - I tip my hat to you, ma'm. When I emailed to apply to take part, and asked if I could blog about it, she not only said yes - she had actually heard of the blog!
When I asked where the shop's name came from, Mel said it came from the way she approaches life. Less about wilfully going the wrong way, than being open to different ways of reaching your destination. Not unlike a certain great poem....
I Ran The Wrong Way is at 378 Cleveland Street, and well worth a visit...
State of Design is happening right now in Melbourne, and there are a couple of interesting bike-related tidbits to be had. Mikael Colville-Andersen, the Danish film-maker, photographer and bike fetishist best known from the Cycle Chic and Copenhagenize blogs is the special guest at a cycling celebration at Denmark House on Friday (would love to be a fly on that wall).
The Design Files did a great wrap of the festival's trade show, and something in particular that caught my eye was Trent Jansen's Cycle Signs. Jansen is an Aussie object designer with a keen interest in sustainable design; as such he has a rich history of recycling and reinterpreting pre-used materials. For example, he makes beautiful stools from old road signs. With offcuts from the signs and their reflective vinyl lettering, Jansen has created these reflective buttons for bikes, which either attach via a clamp to the wheel spokes, or strap onto the body of the bike. Even the straps are made from old bicycle tubes, so the materials are almost all recycled.
They're so simple and practical, yet visually they add something special to a bike. I'm hoping to pick up a few this weekend - Trent says they're available in Sydney at Deus Ex Machina, Tokyo Bike, Cheeky Transport and Chee Soon & Fitzgerald. If you're in Melbourne, try "Saint Cloud on Gertrude Street, and Eco Innovators on the corner of Little Collins and Swanston Streets". (photos courtesy of Trent Jansen - and be sure to check out this great interview with him, which has images of the amazing Pregnant Chair he designed)
If you're in Sydney this weekend there's a bit of a bike bonanza happening at the Woolloomooloo Festival On Wheels. Sable & Argent will play host to a swapmeet, there will be a BBQ and beers and bands and DJs and all manner of cool kids. Will do my best to check it out but I always feel like the school nerd at these kinds of gatherings of chic fixie aficionados. Not unlike when I took my first bike to St Pat's Primary School, proud as punch of my little pink treadly. Ended up in tears at the bike rack when some older boys informed me that my spokey dokes were not nearly as cool as I thought. Their every pling and plong on the long journey home was like an accusation of my dagginess, and I made my dad take them off that night, burning with shame. Never again! Bike pride!
One last thing. A bike just ain't a bike without a bell - but these are some amazing bells. The cupcake bell would be just perfect on Baby Blue, but Big Red would suit the ladybugs, I think. And the turtles are so cute!
My sweet-faced young colleague Miss Al Is a remarkable bike-loving gal Pass her on The Heartbreaker You’ll think you’ve met yer maker Happy 25 mate! Give em hell!
Surely going back to uni merits one of these puppies from the Cambridge Satchel Company? Vintage brown, 15", gold embossed with my initials... If it's good enough for Sophie Ellis Bextor, it's damn well good enough for me...
You might have heard of another Girl With A Satchel... she's always worth popping in on.
The following scenes may cause distress to those who pine for Dutch-style bikes but can't afford $500 for new wheels, even if an awesome company in Melbourne is now making them locally. Oh Papillionaire. You're breaking my heart with your hott, hott bikes. At least on your website I can spend endless procrastinatory minutes of my workday fantasising about the different paint jobs and leather trimmings and wicker baskets I would customise you with. Oh, your swoopy step-through frame, your chain-guards and handlebars like a delicate hipster's moustache...
And speaking of hipster facial hair... How utterly fabulous is this? Are you sitting down? OK.
There's a group outta DC called "Dandies and Qaintrelles", and while you may have heard of tweed rides (where bike geeks get gussied up in their best houndstooth and hunting caps), this weekend just passed they organised a "seersucker social". Think straw boaters, suspenders, floaty floral dresses, pearls, and loads of seersucker. Add bikes, a lack of laws requiring the wearing of helmets, and many good-looking young hipsters; serve over endless emerald lawns on a sultry afternoon, and garnish with mint like a classic southern cocktail. Delicious. We need to organise one here for spring!
PS: Quaintrelle may be my new favourite word.
"A quaintrelle is a woman who emphasizes a life of passion expressed through personal style, leisurely pastimes, charm, and cultivation of life’s pleasures..."
Bit of a trip this weekend for a beautiful friend's wedding at a farm outside of Ballina. The weather wasn't the kindest, and the gorgeous hinterland views had to be given up when rains set in. I can imagine it was all awfully stressful for the bride and her family, but they rallied like troopers and the whole day was an honour to be part of. There was a 50s theme, which we had a ball dressing up for, and it carried through all the decorations and the wedding party's outfits. The bride's sister is a superstar fashion designer and seamstress, and as well as making all the dresses for the bride and herself and the five other bridesmaids, she sourced vintage china and punchbowls for all the tables. The settings were darling and each place was marked with a jar of "harmony jam", made by the mother and grandmother of the bride.
In true 50s style the bridesmaids all had monster beehives worthy of characters from The Far Side. And their dresses were amazing - colourful and deliciously feminine, each was unique and shaped by a hand-made corset and oodles of tulle petticoats. The bride's sister who made them all, and was sewing them into their dresses until they flounced down the aisle, had even sourced matching vintage fur coats to ward off the chill.
Apparently in the 50s it was unheard of to have a single wedding cake; there would always be a spread of different cakes for every possible taste. I imagine that would partly be to placate the various bakers in each family! So at this wedding there was a tower of cupcakes, a very traditional fruit cake, and a delicious double-decker mud cake....
Here's the after shot of the cakes table!
It was the most emotional wedding I've ever been to; there were happy tears all over the place. What was lovely about the ceremony was the quirky readings they used... The groom's sister read from the children's book The Veleveteen Rabbit, about how being loved makes you real, and made everyone cry. And then the bride's mum read from the Doctor Seuss book Oh! The Places You'll Go with a smile in her voice and a twinkle in her eye.
And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)
Kid, you’ll move mountains! So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ale Van Allen O’Shea,
You’re off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So…get on your way!
There was a time I thought I was ok at drawing. Sketchbooks filled up effortlessly with graphite, ink and charcoal lines; some precisely etched, most hurriedly ragged. But that time, it seems, is long gone!
That said, multiple hours just disappeared while I christened a new visual diary... I drew a fish, some bicycles, what was supposed to be an umbrella, and played around with designs from a very sexy Taschen book of typography. It's time to get back into the drawing habit, and hopefully some semblance of skill will return.
Could definitely handle more nights like this - snuggled under the covers scribbling with a mug of sweet hot tea while the rain lashes outside. And it may have taken a week, but my enormous bundle of lilies is finally opening and they smell exquisite...
Sorry I've been neglecting you blog. I missed you, I really did. I'll make it up to you. Tomorrow brings Creative Sydney (just when I thought I couldn't crush on Jess Scully any harder, her program this year includes Chris Ying from McSweeneys), a trip to the travel agent and Dappled Cities. And probably more rain...
